Samuel M. “Sammy” Peeples
If you’ve ever been to ShopRite of Berlin, then you knew his face. You didn’t have to look for it: Samuel M. “Sammy” Peeples would catch you as you dashed through the store in a hurry, not necessarily in the mood for a friendly gesture.
His eyes would land on you anyway – like lasers. Sammy never failed to say hello.
It was the same story at West Berlin Fire Rescue, where Sammy – who died suddenly in January – spent 37 years as a firefighter, often sitting in front of the station on Haddonfield-Berlin Road waving to passersby.
He knew so many people that Fire Chief George Bundick called Sammy his “personal Rolodex.” The chief’s Facebook tribute to him drew hundreds of comments.
“If it was a nice day out,” Bundick recalled, “he had the (station) doors open, the radio going … and he’d be waving and saying hello, whether drivers could hear him or not.”
And around Berlin, Sammy was often seen on his bike – yes, waving.
In his more than three decades at ShopRite, noted its human resources director, Anika Parker, Sammy always went the extra mile for customers, helping someone reach a high shelf, say, or directing them to the right aisle.
“He was a fixture here,” she said.
Community members like Mike Conte remember how Sammy was the walking, talking, waving embodiment of the adage, “I never forget a face.”
“This gentleman turned so many not-so-good days for me into great ones,” Conte wrote on Facebook, “by simply sharing a wave and a smile when needed most.”
Bundick recalled parades where Sammy was grand marshal or rode a fire truck as Santa on Christmas runs.
“People were more excited to see him than they were Santa,” Bundick marveled.
Berlin Township Mayor Phyllis Magazzu believes Sammy’s death should remind us to better connect with each other.
“If we get anything from it,” she observed, “I hope we all choose just to be nicer to each other.”
“I have been in this small town of West Berlin for almost 24 years,” wrote Patricia L, Scerati in an online tribute. ” … All I can say is for sure this town is gonna miss this beautiful soul.”
That “soul” died at 59. As a tribute, the street adjacent to the fire station, Clarence Avenue, was renamed Sammy Peeples Way. So if you’re ever in town on Haddonfield-Berlin Road, try not to miss it.
Sammy Peeples – whose eyes would always find you to say hello – would appreciate that.
Sources: Legacy.com and Costantino-Primo Funeral Home
Theresa M. Howard
Whoever compiled the obituary for Theresa M. Howard wanted a few things to be made clear: She always balanced her cash to the penny. She was the product of a Catholic upbringing in Philly – 2nd Street to be exact – and loved the Phillies, Eagles and Mummers. She could cook an awesome pork chop.
And there’s this: “She was an amazing mother, the obit read, “hall of fame material.”
Theresa Howard – a Williamstown resident who died last month – was also a single mother. She raised her two sons first in Camden, then in the Bells Lake neighborhood of Washington Township. She was a former bookkeeper at McCrory’s in Camden and Drug Emporium in Turnersville..
And Theresa was a faithful churchgoer at Our Lady of Peace Parish-St. Mary Church in Williamstown, attending regular mass at 6:45 in the morning. The Rev. Naveen Borlakunta, associate pastor at the parish, said that according to Theresa’s sons, “She was the lion and the lamb of the family – strict but loving.”
He described a letter to the Blessed Mother found among Theresa’s effects, in which she asked questions about dying.
“She did not doubt her faith,” noted the reverend, who conducted Theresa’s funeral mass. “She asked why.”
A granddaughter’s eulogy at that mass had “the whole family in tears,” Borlakunta recalled, with memories of how Theresa spent time with her six other granddaughters and 11 great-grandchildren during trips to Sesame Place and Storybook Land.
Perhaps Theresa’s greatest legacy, emphasized the priest, was that her two sons mirrored their mother’s faith and went back to attending Mass for the first time in years.
As Borlakunta put it, “she converted her own sons.”
Sources: Legacy.com, Bell-Hennessy Funeral Home
Marie E. Fleming Williams
Marie E. Fleming Williams knew all about adversity – but she never gave into it.
The Mount Laurel resident – who died in January at 92 – had the privilege of marrying her high-school sweetheart, James Fleming, according to her obituary. They had three children, raised them on a U.S. Army income, and lived on a German base where Marie – the only spouse with a job – taught nursery school.
But they lost their first child, Sharon Marie at only three days old. And they were living in Cherry Hill when Jim’s life was cut short in 1968. He was only 35.
But Marie went on, and went on strong. She not only did the job of two parents, she attended college part time, eventually earning a bachelor’s in nursing from Rutgers University in 1978 – at the age of 46. She married a second time and had a 25-year career as a nurse.
But adversity wasn’t done with her. Relocated to Ocean City, she was hit head on by a truck in a 2003 accident that nearly killed her and cost her a career. But Marie got the best of misfortune again, settling into a life with time for eight grandchildren, one-great grandchild and friends she had kept from high school.
Bridge was a favorite pastime, according to one of those friends.
“Marie and I spent many hours learning and playing bridge,” Edith Little recalled in an online tribute. “Many laughs. Since we are both RNs we shared experiences.”
When adversity did show up on her step again, Marie made sure it barely got a foot in the door.
She had a long life,” noted Mark Burgess online, “got to see her children grow up, have families and be part of their lives until the end. And that is a good life.”
Sources: Legacy.com, Mathis Funeral Home
Duly noted:
This is a column about South Jerseyans who have passed away, but once in a while, we’ll take note of other deaths that catch our eye.
Actor Gene Hackman is immortalized on film, a bonafide movie star who created some of the most memorable characters in movies over four decades. Secret Service agent Clint Hill was captured in one of the most heart-wrenching photos of a heart-wrenching day, hanging on to the trunk of the speeding limo that took President John F. Kennedy to Parkland Hospital in Dallas on Nov. 22, 1963. Hill shielded Jackie Kennedy, but he knew instinctively the president was mortally wounded.
Hackman was noted for playing an everyman in dozens of films we saw. Hill was a hero in one image we’ve seen hundreds of times.
Both caught the eyes of the world.
To suggest someone who recently passed away for a profile in The Good Life, email Christina Mitchell at cmitchell@donnelly.media. Please describe in a few words how they lived.
